Shalom
by theverystuffoflife
Summary: Author note replaced with chapter 5 yay:) They forgot that one day the time would come. The residents of Nonnatus House say goodbye to the lady whose life's work they cherish most. Multi-chapter, very sad & angsty, Shulienne, Turnadette etc. AU/ in that Nonnatus House still exists :(
1. Chapter 1

**This is the first fanfiction I have ever written! I'm quite nervous about putting this up here, but I hope you all enjoy. Sorry if its a bit angsty for you, I'll try put some happy chapters up too in due course :)**

The catch on the bedroom door clicked loudly. Sister Julienne winced at the noise, too audible for the slumbering Nonnatus House. She couldn't tell the other nurses. Not yet.

Her knees trembled as she crept down down the hallway towards the telephone. She became aware of her own short breaths and a pounding in her head and desperately tried to regain composure. She just needed to hear one voice.

"Shelagh?" she whispered shakily, barely audible to the half-asleep nurse.  
Sister Juliennes sombre and slightly traumatised tone immediately sent shivers down Shelaghs spine.

"Sister? Whatever is the matter? It's the middle of the night!"

"Shelagh, it may seem unreasonable of me whilst you are in your current condition, but if I said I couldn't use you very badly, I would be lying. It's Sister Monica Joan. I think...I think she might be leaving us" speaking those previously unimaginable words sent Sister Julienne into uncontrollable sobs.

Shelaghs free hand immediately went to her swollen stomach, the life inside her giving her a mighty boot as if to hurry her up. "I will fetch Dr Turner and be over straight away. With Timothy, I am afraid. Please Sister, keep calm. It may not be as bad as you fear."

Sister Julienne couldn't speak for tears choking her and weakly placed down the receiver. She knelt on the ground and prayed.

* * *

The minutes following the telephone conversation felt like hours to Sister Julienne, as she knelt on the cold ground, begging for God to help them. She didn't hear the front door open.  
"Sister?" Shelaghs familiar Scottish accent made Sister Julienne look up. Shelagh took her work-worn hands and pulled her to her feet.  
"Daughter." Sister Julienne choked, and embraced Shelagh as tightly as she could, given the obvious obstruction. "I am so, so afraid."  
"Please don't be, Sister." Sister Julienne heard another voice, a deep male voice this time, resembling the one of Dr Turner- "I will do everything I can". Before she could reply, he left the room in a hurry, desperate to help his elderly patient.

"Who's here Sister? Do you want me to fetch anyone?"  
"Nurse Lee and Sister Evangelina are out on a call, thank God" Shelagh nodded, understanding. Those two would not take the news well, and Sister Julienne was already limited in strength for herself, let alone two others.  
"And the others?"  
"Asleep. I cannot bring myself to wake them, yesterday was a tough day with two midwives now down." Shelagh looked up guiltily, rubbing her belly. "And Nurse Franklin lost a patient. And now this..." Sister Juliennes eyes filled with tears.  
"The Lord brings us these challenges for a reason Sister, I am sure of it." She was stroking Sister Juliennes hand and looked directly into her tired, devastated eyes.  
"Sleep now. I will stay with you and if Doctor has any news, I will wake you. I promise."

As Sister Julienne dozed, she noticed the sleeping bundle in the corner, his eyes also red with worry and upset.  
"Oh Lord, you are having a very, very busy day" Shelagh whispered.

Please review! More to come very soon!


	2. Chapter 2

**I hope someone out there is enjoying this! I didn't expect the next chapter to be up so quickly, so I hope it is okay. A new chapter may be up tomorrow, or maybe not. Please review :)**

Shelagh was abruptly awoken by a sharp tightening in her abdomen. "Ow", she winced. Braxton-Hicks were become more frequent as she entered her third trimester. After everything that had happened, Shelagh was overwhelmingly grateful for a healthy baby, but they weren't particularly pleasant.

She opened her eyes, glued together with sleep and worried tears. The streams of golden sunlight flooding the front room made her squint. Her eyes first darted to Timothy. Curled up on the hard floor, he had been covered in a blanket, a pillow carefully placed under his head. She looked over to the sofa, where only hours before she had held Sister Juliennes hand and waited until she fell asleep. It was empty.

* * *

She found her exactly where she expected to. She was in the foetal position on the chapel floor, the dawn sunlight engulfing her and her white bedclothes making her resemble a slumbering angel. She was the colour of snow except for the rings of red round her swollen eyes.  
If it hadn't been for the heartbroken gasps escaping the angel, she would have thought she was dead.

Shelagh squatted next to the bundle, one hand holding the small of her back, the other placed against Sister Juliennes face. "Sister." She stroked her cheek tenderly.  
"Sister. It's almost dawn. The nurses will be up soon."  
There was no response.  
"Please Sister. They need you. They are young. They will need you to help them through this."

Sister Julienne opened her eyes, and whispered two simple words. "I know."  
Suddenly, she regained her consciousness. "Sister Monica Joan...Doctor Turner...have you heard anything?"  
"No Sister. I dare say he is probably asleep in the rather uncomfortable chair next to her bed. He has a talent for having a good nights sleep wherever he is" Shelagh smiled, and winked at Sister Julienne.  
She wasn't ready for jokes, and stood up with a start, ignoring the stiff pain in her back. "We must start getting prepared for breakfast. It will be a trying day, but there's work to be done."  
Shelagh looked up. "Sister, please. You mustn't work today. Please go to bed."

Sister Julienne smiled weakly, and helped Shelagh to her feet. She took her hands. "Shelagh, if I do that, everything will be out of sorts. The girls don't need that. As you say, they are young. They need me."  
She turned on her heels and swept out of the room.

* * *

Jenny Lee was surprised to see Shelagh at breakfast.  
"Shelagh! Why are you here? Are you okay?" Jenny questioned, gently touching her arm, her eyes focused on the unborn child she had been charged to care for and deliver.

"I'm quite alright Jenny." Shelagh smiled weakly at her friend. "I am rather exhausted however, it has been a difficult night."

Shelagh walked over to the stove to make tea for the crowd she expected would begin to gather in the kitchen. She paused to breathe through a particularly painful Braxton-Hicks, and turned very pale.

"Shelagh, you aren't alright! Please sit down, you need to rest. For your baby." Jenny exclaimed. Shelagh gave in without argument as her chosen midwife helped her into a chair. "I will make the tea. And you must explain why you are here."

"Jenny!" Cynthia cried down the hallway. "Why is Timothy asleep in the living room? Is Doctor Turner here?"  
Jenny shot Shelagh a worried look. Shelagh stared at the checked tablecloth aimlessly.  
"Shelagh is, Cynthia. Doctor Turner- not that I knew of."  
Jenny cursed herself for not checking the living room before she retired to bed after her call early that morning, as she normally did. It had been a tough delivery of which her and Sister Evangelina had to tackle alone as Dr Turner was preoccupied with a 'gravely ill patient'.  
Suddenly it clicked. Her heart started pounding. Jane was on a well earned holiday, Chummy was now in new accommodation with baby Freddie, Sister Evangelina was obviously sleeping. She noticed the absence of Sister Julienne and Trixie. Trixie had never been one for early starts, but Sister Julienne was normally the first to wake.  
"Shelagh?" Jenny said gently as Cynthia joined them at the table, "is your husband here?"  
"Yes."  
"Is Sister Julienne ill?" Cynthia interrupted, panicked.  
For the first time in minutes, Shelagh looked up. She noticed a hunched, withered figure whom slightly resembled her husband shuffling down the hallway. "I believe Doctor can inform you of everything." Shelagh said in barely more than a whisper. Under the table, Jenny clasped Shelaghs hand in comfort.


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm so sorry for the delay in this chapter! I had one written but wasn't happy with it so deleted it. I have exams in a couple of weeks so I will apologise in advance for the slow updating. Thankyou to my two lovely reviewers and the lovely folk on tumblr for egging me on :)**

As Doctor Turner was met by a trio of exhausted and concerned faces, his hard exterior softened. His eyes filled with tears. He hated this. He hated that he had to inflict grief on the people of Poplar daily, but he hated this time the most. He had to to tell three young girls, who he respected so much, including his beloved wife, that someone they admired and adored so much was going to die.  
He couldn't even sit down. "Ladies, in this situation, I think you will all need each others comfort rather a lot. The others need to come downstairs and meet us in the sitting room. Chummy and Jane should probably be contacted as soon as possible." his voice shook as he finished the spiel.  
"Doctor?" Jenny said, her eyes spilling over with tears at the sight of the doctor upset, "Please, just tell us who it is?"  
"Sister Monica Joan, Jenny. And it's not good. Really not good. It's now just a matter of time."  
Shelagh noted the unusual use of Jenny's Christian name, and suddenly it hit home. This was serious. She realised she was still holding onto Jenny's hand, but now it was cold and clammy. All she could do is squeeze it comfortingly.  
Cynthias shaking hands were desperately trying to hold up her head, Jenny looked like she was about to be sick...and she had never seen Patrick look so traumatised.  
They sat silently comforting each other for what felt like hours.

* * *

The living room in Nonnatus House was brimming with memories. It was there they sat on that long, brisk, autumn night when Chummy haemorrhaged and almost died and they sewed baby Freddie's quilt together for hours, told them of the miracle of baby Lotties existence, where they sat when Shelagh told them she had renounced her vows, was getting married, and expecting her first baby. A place where they could comfort eachother after a long, hard night and a place they could be joyful together. So full of the very stuff of life.  
Now it was would be the place where the lives of them all would be rocked yet again.

It was early evening before Doctor Turner had a chance to address the residents of Nonnatus House as a whole. Delivery after delivery occurred, and the midwives struggled. Unusually, little reluctance was given by Jenny when Shelagh, who was supposed to be on maternity leave, offered to assist her. Shelagh was still tackling the Braxton-Hicks however and by the end of the day was exhausted.  
Timothy had long gone home to be watched over by the housekeeper. Already confused and upset by the events of the previous night, he couldn't witness the scene that was about to occur.

Dr Turner sat in the worn armchair and watched each resident of Nonnatus House walk into the room. Trixie was first, looking utterly perplexed.  
"Doctor, what on earth is going on? Nobody has breathed a word to me, but Sister Julienne has cancelled most of this evenings rounds! And everyone is awfully depressed. It's quite taxing trying to have a decent conversation..."  
"Hush Nurse Franklin," Dr Turner interrupted and then smiled at Trixies bemusement at his interjection, "Please, take a seat and you will find out when the others arrive."

Cynthia and Jenny followed, together. Trixie immediately started berating them for not telling her anything and for being "so bloody miserable".  
Dr Turner noticed both girls were close to tears. "Nurse Franklin. Leave them be. It will all become clear." he said sternly, and Trixie promptly shut up.  
Jenny smiled weakly at his defence and mouthed a simple "thank you."

As Jane, and then Chummy, struggling with a wriggly 18 month old Freddie and Peter, with a tiny baby clinging to him entered, Trixies eyes became wider and wider, but she kept quiet.  
After around ten minutes Sister Evangelina and Sister Julienne accompanied by an exhausted looking Shelagh, Fred and Mrs B had also gathered in the room.

Dr Turner looked at the sea of concerned faces and started. "I'm very glad everyone was able to make it this evening. I'm sure some of you are wondering why I've brought you here."  
"As you can see, someone is missing. Sister Monica Joan. This meeting concerns her."  
He looked over at Sister Julienne and gestured for her to continue, hoping the pain would be lessened coming from her rather than a doctor.  
"Sister Monica Joan is very sick. As you all are aware, she is in her late 80s, therefore her treatment options for any illness are limited." Sister Juliennes voice shook, and the normally steely Sister Evangelina took her hand tenderly.  
Dr Turner continued. "My suspicions are that she has cancer. Leukaemia. It's a malignant progressive disease..." he stopped himself when he realised that most of the people he was talking to were medically trained.  
"Anyway, it doesn't look good. At any age, leukaemia is often fatal and the treatments are difficult, dangerous and cause suffering. However, there are of course two options. First, admit Sister Monica Joan to hospital and put her through the intensive treatment which may kill her anyway..." He winced when he noticed the brisk and insensitive tone to his voice which he was so used to using when giving diagnosis's to patients families. "-or, I care for her palliatively here and she can pass peacefully and comfortably." Dr Turner finished his speech, picking fretfully at a button on his jacket. He couldn't bring himself to look up. The room was uncomfortably silent.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Bit of a filler chapter really, slightly uneventful but very important. Hope this quick one makes up for the gap between chapter 2 and 3! Dedicated to my lovely twitter friends Rose and Kennedy :) **_

It was Jane who broke the silence after some time. "B-b-but how? She was fine when I left..."  
Her unusual abruptness made Shelagh jump and look up. Through the cloudiness of her tear-misted spectacles she saw everyone staring at the ground, as if something very interesting had appeared there.

"Who knows why these things happen Jane? Leukaemia can develop very quickly, especially in the elderly, or it is possible she's been hiding her symptoms for some time..."  
Shelagh heard the gentle voice of her husband murmur.

The thought of Sister Monica Joan suffering without telling a soul made her heart ache. She was sure every one else in that room felt the same way.

Cynthia was next to interject. Her arm had carefully snaked around an extremely pale and quiet Jenny's back.  
"I knew she would die soon." the whole room winced at this statement. "But from the dementia...I couldn't have imagined leukaemia. Not ever."  
"This is absolutely frightful. I feel terribly guilty for my conduct earlier now." Trixie added tearful.  
"Please, no guilt Trixie, you didn't know anything." Cynthia replied.

"Would you like some tea Doctor?" Sister Evangelina squeaked, and left the room hastily without waiting for an answer. "I'm quite fine Sister" Patrick called after her.  
With that, baby Lottie stirred and started whimpering. Peter shifted in his seat uncomfortably, embarrassed. He locked eyes with Chummy who gave him a knowing look. "I'm so sorry Dr Turner, unlike her brother did, Lottie doesn't know the meaning of waiting for the right time just yet..." she whispered.  
"It's quite alright Chummy." Chummy blushed at the Doctors use of her nickname, "go now, be with your husband and children. It's been a hard day." he smiled sympathetically.  
With that, Chummy and Peter left without a word, apart from a comforting hand placed on Jenny's head as Chummy passed her. Jenny shivered at the contact but continued staring into space.

The room which had been basking in the orange glow of the sunset was getting dark. They must have sat there for hours.  
Sister Evangelina returned with a tray of tea and cake, but everyone felt too sick to the stomach to eat. Cake reminded them of her.  
Finally, Sister Julienne spoke. "Girls," addressing Jenny, Trixie, Cynthia and Jane, "Sister Evangelina and I have an important decision to make. Why don't you retire to your rooms for tonight?"  
Shelagh was sure Jenny would argue her right to stay, but she didn't. She stood up quickly to follow Trixie, Cynthia and Jane out of the room, and suddenly collapsed to the floor, hitting her head on the hard wood, knocking her out cold.

"Oh Lord. Cynthia!" Sister Julienne shouted down into the corridor and then crouched down beside Jenny. "She doesn't look well Doctor..."  
Cynthia came into the room, practically sprinting and stopped with a start as she noticed her best friend unconscious on a heap on the floor.

Shelagh felt like a useless beached whale stuck watching the whole affair. Trixie came into the room after hearing the commotion. "What on earth?!" she said, worried.  
Cynthia had placed Jenny's head in her lap, and Dr Turner was taking her pulse. "It could be shock," he frowned, "or she mightn't have eaten enough today, combined with the stress..."  
"She hasn't eaten at all today. She didn't eat breakfast after what happened, and then I assisted her on calls over lunch and dinner." Shelagh said.  
Sister Evangelina tutted loudly. "Well it's her own fault then! Shouldn't mollycoddle her." Her tone was less sharp than normal however, and she didn't have the heart to insult the young girl further.

After a few minutes, Jenny had regained consciousness and was tentatively brought to her feet, diagnosed with slight shock and low blood sugars and sent to eat something and go to bed, to be watched carefully by Cynthia and Trixie.

The Sisters and Shelagh were all secretly glad for slightly dramatic distraction. They knew what was coming.  
"I didn't think we'd have to talk about this for a long time yet." Sister Evangelina began shakily.  
"You do not have to make this decision tonight. It's been a very long and hard day." Dr Turner said wearily.  
"I'm fairly certain that I know exactly what Sister Monica Joan would choose if she could, Doctor. Remember the struggle we had with that penicillin!" Sister Julienne smiled. The other two women looked at her knowingly, and nodded.

"Doctor Turner, we would like you to make Sister Monica Joan's last few days with us as comfortable and pain free as you can. No treatments."

As Shelagh departed with her husband, she knew the Sisters had made the right choice. But would the younger, less mature nurses feel the same? She doubted it.

**thankyou for the wonderful reviews! My head is massive! Never I thought I'd enjoy writing fanfiction as much as this! Think this fanfic may span 10-15 chapters as I'm thinking I may include the birth of Shelaghs baby too after all this depressing stuff ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Finally! Here is chapter five! I am so sorry for the HUGE delay. Thankyou for the well wishes wrt my exams, they went very well, my report was all As which was fab. My maths gcse was a mixed bag, but I'm hoping I've got an A! This chapter is rather uneventful, but I promise I'll get to the juicy stuff soon! **

Trixie staggered into the warm kitchen of Nonnatus House, cheeks flushed pink from the harsh cold outside and the determination to keep hold of the mountain of books she was clasping.  
"I've been to the library" she declared triumphantly to the bemused group of young midwives, and dumped the books onto the kitchen table leaving Cynthia to save the lives of the unfortunate tea cups Trixie had displaced.

It was a rare occasion nowadays that all the young midwives including Chummy, who was normally preoccupied by Freddie & Lottie, and Shelagh, who was on maternity leave, would share lunch without the presence of the nuns.  
It had been a few days since Sister Monica Joan's devastating diagnosis of leukaemia, and life had continued on as normally as it could have. The grief of Nonnatus was shared only between those four walls, and not a hint of distress was shown to any expectant mother. Shelagh and Timothy had moved into Nonnatus House as Dr Turner maintained a bedside vigil over a fast-fading Sister Monica Joan. Shelagh arrived with offers of any help she could give, but the residents of Nonnatus were mainly relieved that a heavily pregnant and fragile Shelagh wasn't now left alone when she could go into labour at any time.

Alongside the new residents, the only other change apparent was the slightly tense divide between the young midwives and the nuns over the treatment of Sister Monica Joan.  
Shelagh had not yet voiced her opinion to the younger girls that she thought the nuns had made the right decision to not admit Sister Monica Joan to hospital, and found herself becoming the referee to avoid any major disputes, particularly between the outspoken Trixie and Sister Evangelina. There was not even ten years between her and the youngest of the group, Jenny, yet she found she possessed a maturity about the situation that even Trixie, only three years younger than her, did not have.

Shelagh understood the ethical reasons behind the nuns decision. The treatment for tuberculosis took its toll on her 31 year old body, so there was no doubt that the new chemotherapy treatment for cancers would have a horrific effect on a body in its 90s. Besides, Sister Monica Joan was now in a deep sleep, pain free and peaceful. Why wake her when it probably wouldn't even work? The survival rate for leukaemia was almost zero.  
She also understood the emotional agony of the younger girls. They adored Sister Monica Joan like a grandmother, and knew that without the presence of her, Nonnatus House would be very different. They didn't want her to die! It would be too sad and painful.

So she found she bit her lip when it came to the young girls new scheme to change the nuns, and her husbands minds.

"We can see that Trixie," Shelagh smiled, gesturing to the books. "But why on earth have you taken out the BMJ and this vast array of medical books? I thought you were a romantic fiction type of girl?", with a cheeky wink which made the nurses giggle.  
"Well Shelagh, I thought I could read them to your unborn son or daughter. You know, make sure they are actually born medically trained." Trixie replied solemnly, patting Shelaghs bump.  
Shelaghs eyebrows shot up immediately, but a glance at the amused faces of the other girls confirmed to her it was sarcasm.  
"Oh isn't that a bit biased Trixie? You never did that for Freddie or Lottie!" Shelagh winked again.  
She was glad to be laughing with the girls again, despite the adversity they all faced, and the tragedy they were about to face.  
"Actually, they are for mission Save Sister Monica Joan. We all think the nuns are being dreadfully mean just letting her die without giving her a chance. If we can show them we know our stuff about leukaemia by reading these books, they will have to have her admitted to hospital! Are you in Shelagh?"  
Shelagh sighed, and looked straight into Trixies young, aqua blue eyes. "Trixie, I am not in. Sister Monica Joan is in her 90s, there's no way she'd survive the treatment. I know nobody has said it, but if she had chemotherapy, she'd have a horrific, painful death. Currently, she is comfortable and pain free. Patric- I mean Dr Turner knows what he's doing. So do the nuns." She finished her speech gently but firmly, and could feel the nods of the rest of the girls at her.  
"Trixie, Shelagh has a point! We don't want her to suffer, just for the sake of a few more days with her. Or maybe we'd have less time!" Jenny interjected shakily.  
"Oh, clearly I'm the only one who cares about giving Sister Monica Joan a bloody good chance at life!" Trixie scowled.

At that, Jenny leapt up distressed and ran up the stairs to her bedroom. Chummy looked slightly shell-shocked at this outburst, and was desperately trying to stop a very smiley baby Lottie giggling inappropriately at the sudden turn of events. Shelagh glanced over at Cynthia, who had a look of despair in her eyes. Shelagh caught her eye and mouthed "I'll go", gesturing upstairs. "Thank you", a relieved Cynthia mouthed in response.

"Jenny?" Shelagh murmured and knocked gently on the girls bedroom door. "Jenny, it's Shelagh. Can I come in?"  
Suddenly the door burst open, and a red eyed and overly chirpy but wobbly sounding Jenny exclaimed "yes of course, come in, are you alright?"  
"I'm fine Jenny...but you're not, are you?"  
It was something about the soft and comforting tone of Shelaghs voice and the look in her eyes which meant Jenny just crumbled. She burst into loud, choking sobs. Shelagh immediately embraced the young girl as best as she could, shushing her as if she was an injured toddler. For the first time, she really appreciated how very young Jenny was.  
"I do care Shelagh. I do! I just don't want to hurt her." Jenny managed through sobs.

"I know you do. I know. Everything will be alright Jenny, I promise."


	6. AUTHOR NOTE THINGY

Yet another author note just to push the fic up to the top of the page, as I replaced the last author note with chapter 5 and it didn't update. Chapter 6 should be up later or tomorrow :)


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